Who Am I?
by Tressa
Summary: *repost-just minor changes* A school assignment forces Tim to look back on his life


Title: Who Am I?  
Author: Tressa  
Rating: G  
Summery: Tim Drake dwells on his past and how he went from being a regular boy to Robin.  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of these characters. All property of their respective owners. Only done for fun, not making any money off of this. Please don't sue.  
Authors note: Ahh, my first little romp around the Bat-verse. Please be gentle.  
"Now class," the teacher droned on. "You have two assignments that will be due in two  
weeks. That is more then enough time for these assignments, as a result, I will not be  
accepting them late."  
  
Tim Drake jerked awake as a stack of papers landed on his desk. Taking one and passing  
it back, he then read the assignment along with the teacher.  
  
"In this past book, we have read about Liza's discovery of herself and her family. We  
have been able to follow her tracks from confusion to having an assured knowledge of  
who she really is. The assignments are as followed. First, write a piece describing  
yourself. I don't mean physically, I want you to get deep inside yourself. Question  
yourself on who you are. Be able to answer the question. There is no right or wrong  
answer to this, but I would like some well thought out answers as well as some self  
discovery." She looked up. "Any questions so far?" When no one answered, she  
continued reading. "The second piece you will turn in is on your family. You don't have  
to tell me everything. I understand that families need to be kept private. But if you could  
describe your families in the same way as the other assignment, that will be sufficient.   
Once again, there is not write or wrong answer." She set down the paper as the bell rang.   
"Have a good day!"  
  
Forcing himself to stand up, Tim stuffed the offending piece of paper in his bag, then  
dragged himself out of the classroom, intending to get a few hours of sleep before heading out for his 'job'. This assignment was going to be difficult. Especially since he had been struggling with these questions for a while now. Ignoring his obnoxious roommate, he lay down on his bed and dozed off.  
  
The next week and a half flew by quickly. Tim managed to keep his mind focused on his  
daily activities. However, it was inevitable that the time would come in which he was  
going to have to do the assignment. He didn't realize how badly he tried to subconsciously ignore the papers until Alfred settled him down in his room and told him he would not move until he finished his homework. Not having the heart to say something back to the older gentleman, Tim sat down at his computer with a huff .  
  
"Alfred, I really don't feel comfortable doing this," he said hesitantly. "It . . .digs too  
deep. I've tried for so long to forget all of this and go on with life, but .. . ."   
  
"What is so horrendous about this assignment, Master Timothy?"  
  
Wordlessly, Tim handed him the paper. He watched uneasily as Alfred's eyes glanced  
quickly over the sheet before he set it down on his lap. "I see. Master Timothy, perhaps  
this assignment is something that you've been waiting for. If you have been wrestling with this question for a while, then might this not be an answer to this question?"  
  
Shrugging, Tim took the paper back from him. He had thought of it like that, but didn't  
want to openly admit it to himself. Sighing, he glanced up at Alfred to see the Wayne's  
butler looking at him, expectation written on his face.   
  
"Now, Master Timothy. Do you're homework."  
  
Scowling, he booted up his computer. Maybe he could contact Oracle and have her write this for him. She had helped him in the past with his homework. This should be no problem.  
  
"Oh, and Master Timothy? Please refrain from contacting Miss Gordon about this."  
  
There he went again. Reading his mind. No wonder he was the keystone to their  
bat-family. After fidgeting for a couple of minutes, he finally got to work.  
  
  
  
My name is Timothy Drake. I am the son of Jack and Janet Drake, who died..  
He paused. What else is there about him? The teacher had stated that she didn't want just a summery of them. She wanted them to talk about themselves. Their true selves. He bit his lip, then continued.  
  
  
  
My childhood wasn't what society would consider normal. My parents were among the upper-class. As a result, they were always attending high society parties and taking expensive vacations. And I was always left alone, with our maid, Ms. Mac. She always took care of me, making sure to remind me that she remembered me. At that time, I was a bitter young boy, upset at my parents, upset at the world. Sometimes I wished that I could just disappear. One particular outing, in which my parents spent time with me, they took me to Haley's circus. There I was able to meet the most amazing attraction there: The Flying Graysons. I even got my picture with them, sitting with the youngest member, Richard Grayson. Things went alright there, and then tragedy struck.  
  
My mother died.  
  
After that, my father become more distant and I became bitter again. He eventually got together with Dana Winters. The leaving started again. Then, out of a stroke of luck, I managed to meet up with Richard Grayson. He introduced me to his foster father and things started to change.  
Quickly reading over his work, he closed his eyes and attempted to think. He was doing  
what his teacher had warned them not to do. However, he felt his background was  
necessary to what he had to write.  
  
  
  
So who am I? Who is Timothy Drake? I'll tell you who Timothy Drake is. There are different sides to me. First off I am the son of Jake and Janet Drake. That is who I am originally, and as painful as it was sometimes, that is who I am attempting to be again. He was innocent in the ways of the world, and despite his somewhat neglectful parents, he loved them dearly. They were a family, in the structural sense of the word. In a round about way in emotions, though they were rarely shown. That Tim could feel his mother's arms around him, hugging him, giving him motherly kisses.   
  
After his mother's death, he became someone completely different. He became more independent. He became more concerned with himself. And he became more lonely. Sure, this Tim had friends. He had many friends who attended school with him at Gotham Heights. But they couldn't understand completely what he was going through, though they tried to understand. That Tim Drake, was bitter, upset at the world. Confused at what was going on in his life, and unwilling to face it head on, instead trying to disappear from it.  
  
It was that faithful re-meeting with Richard Grayson and an introduction to a whole new family and group of friends that changed him for the better. Richard adopted him into his "slightly dysfunctional family," as he so proudly put it. And boy, was it messed up. But I felt a part of this family. They showed me care that I hadn't realized I needed till that point. It was here that I learned to care again. To love people. I work side be side with them, learning new things about the world and myself.   
  
My new friends, most of them had gone through the same thing I had gone through. There were certain things about them that their parents didn't agree with or know about. They weren't bad things, just quirks in their personalities. Some didn't have either of their parents, staying with guardians instead. And yet they didn't curse life. Sure, they were upset at some things. But they looked around it. They saw me differently then how my father and Dana saw me. They saw me differently then my surrogate family saw me. For them I wasn't the son. I wasn't the brother. For them I was sort of a leader for our little group. You know, the one who makes the big decisions. As big of decisions as a group teenagers would have to make. They were a little rambunctious and impulsive.  
He couldn't resist laughing out loud at the last line.  
  
"What is so humorous, Master Timothy?" Alfred asked, looking up from the book he  
was reading.  
  
"The last line I typed," Tim said, smiling. "I mentioned that my new friends are a bit  
rambunctious and impulsive."  
  
He noticed Alfred smiling at his charge's humor. "Yes, the dear boy is quite . . .  
impulsive."  
  
  
  
It was this interesting position where I learned to take charge when necessary. It was their rambunctious nature that caused me to try and calm them down. To try and set some order to our daily gatherings. To be able to care for someone other then myself. To be able to help others was . . . fulfilling. It let me become more responsible. With Richard's family, I was able to become the son and friend that I didn't have the opportunity that I had with my family. I was able to be able to joke around and be a teenager again. Not have to worry about anything.  
  
So, in answer to the question, I'm all of these things. I am a son, a brother, a leader, a friend, someone in need of help, someone who can help others, someone who is misunderstood, someone who has some rough times, and someone who is able to over  
come this.   
Saving it, he smiled proudly at his work. That wasn't as bad as he had anticipated. In  
fact, it was quite therapeutic. "Hey Alfie, you have to read this."  
  
Patiently setting down his book, Alfred moved to a sitting position on the bed and took a glance at the screen over the shoulder of the eager teenager. He had never seen Tim so excited about a piece of school work. It was thrilling to see him worked up over this.   
  
Tim watched Alfred's expression as he read the paper. It was only half done, he still had  
the other part to do on his family. But for something he had just whipped up, he thought  
it was pretty good. Apparently Alfred had thought so to.  
  
"Very good, Master Timothy. Very introspective. Now, let us see what you can do with  
the family section."  
  
He thought about it for a minute, then began typing.  
  
Family. You never really appreciate them until something happens that completely turns your world inside out. When I was younger, my mother and father would leave to parties and vacations. They would leave me alone with the maid. I got to know Ms. Mac really well and she became one of my best friends. Every once in a while, mom and dad would take me somewhere fun. It was times like that I was glad that I had a family. And then one day that all disappeared. My mom died.   
  
When she died, my dad lost it. He withdrew from me. It wasn't fun. We'd argue about the most ridiculous things. I don't know why. Maybe I'll never know why. This went on for a while and then he met Dana. I like Dana. She's nice and always looks out for me. But she's not my mom, no matter what my dad says. She even tells him not rush me, that it would take time for me to get used to having her in our lives. It has taken time. I still haven't completely gotten used to it.  
  
Slowly, I drew away from my family, until one night, my father had enough of my rebellious attitude, as he called it, and shipped me off to Brentwood. He wanted me to get some structure and responsibility in my life. He wanted me, I guess, to respect him. I couldn't help it. When he met Dana, a small part of me hoped that he would change and we could be a family. Do things as a family. Instead, he and Dana did the same things he and my mother did. Dana feels bad, but I think dad just sees it as a part of his life that he accepts. Things might have gotten worse it not for my other family.  
  
Yes, I have another family.  
  
When my mother Janet was alive, we took a trip to Haley's Circus, I was able to get my picture taken with the outstanding Flying Graysons. It was there I met Richard Grayson. And it was there I saw his world fall apart as he parents were murdered before his eyes. Years later, I would, by a twist of fate, run into him again. He had been become a ward of Bruce Wayne, a man who traveled the same circles as dad. Slowly, he befriended me  
and introduced me to what he proudly termed his dysfunctional family.  
  
I had never experienced anything like this.  
  
I had a dad, Bruce Wayne. Even though he doesn't act like it, I know he cares. I had a brother, Richard Grayson. I had a sister and a mother of sorts (hopefully sister-in-law if Mr. Grayson will get up off his lazy rear-end) named Barbara Gordon. She had dated Richard and kind of got sucked in . Later I would receive another 'sister', Cassandra Cain. We have a grandfather, Bruce's faithful butler, Alfred. We even have a grandmother, Dr. Leslie Thompkins. We went through a lot of scrapes, but somehow managed to keep together. The biggest tragedy to hit us was when Barbara was injured. Paralysis was hard for her to deal with. Something like that would've torn my real family apart. With this family, it was different. Completely different then what I would have expected.  
  
We've gotten over that tragedy, but it hasn't shaken us too much. These people are wonderful. Richard and Barbara, or Dick and Babs as we like to call them, send me letters and call me to see how I am doing. Bruce will invite me over for holiday dinners and even some non-holiday dinners. I never had a sibling. Richard provided that for me. He's your typical annoying older brother.  
  
My father will occasionally call me or write me, but he never drops in to visit. Dana will call and I've been getting to know her better. She tells me that my father is still struggling with the gap between us that seems to be getting wider. She tells me that even though he doesn't show it, he does care for me.  
  
I love my families. Both of them. That's who they are.  
That's the farthest he got. He didn't want to go on any further. Quickly running it  
through the spell check, he glanced at the clock. It was evening. Soon, he'd have to  
leave and hope his roommate doesn't lock him out, again. Standing up, he stretched his muscles. Better get something to eat. "Alfred? I'm done."  
  
"That was quick, young sir."  
  
He shrugged. "Once I got going, it all kinda flowed out. Of course, it's the best I can do without mentioning, uh, certain aspects of our lifestyle."  
  
The older man smiled gently at him. "Well then, young sir, might you get a filling dinner tonight so that you might be ready. Growling stomachs aren't appropriate." He stood up. "I shall be leaving now. Tell me when you are leaving, Master Timothy  
  
"Yes sir!" Standing up and mock saluting him, he waited till Alfred left before turning back to his computer. Logging on to a secure channel, he waited a few seconds before the familiar icon of Oracle popped up on the screen.  
  
"Oracle here," the synthesized voice answered.  
  
"Hey Babs, it's Tim."  
  
There was a pause, then the icon disappeared to reveal the pretty face of Barbara Gordon. "What can I do for ya, Current Boy Wonder."  
  
Tim smiled at her nickname for him. Okay, so he had jump hoops and secure a lot of red tape around his private life. It was pathetic that it took a stupid school assignment to make him realize exactly who he was and how he fit in with the scheme of things. And it took that stupid assignment to make him appreciate the people around him. Glancing at the clock, then back at the screen, he attempted to control his emotions again.  
  
"What have ya got for me, Oracle."  
  
That night, Robin flew. 


End file.
